Hand of Death
by ZelotOneShotter
Summary: There always existed a rule, unwritten, unspoken Rule regarding the soul. Break it and you earn the ire of Death itself.
AN: another thing that wouldn't leave me alone until i typed it.

As per usual, if this idea exists in some way, PM me, i wanna read it! as long as it isnt slash, i hate that stuff

There was a few things that Herpo the Foul knew, one being that he had done something bad, a great many bad things in his life so far to be sure, but this, this took the cake. He had lived after death for an unknown time, history taking in his name and his accomplishments to record, yearning to add one line to history's pages before he faded, as the green eyes of Death stared at him directly, its desire for him clear as day; never fragment your soul, for **He** would come for you, as if an act of magic itself had sent him.

Herpo thought himself smart like the Three Brothers Peverall, and earned the ire of Death itself.

And Herpo screamed.

The archway of Death, what most Unspeakables would consider the most mysterious device or object in the entire world, past, present or future, covered in atomic sized patterns of primal, archaic origin no one would ever dream to see.

Called the Veil for its whispery curtain no one understood what the archway of Death was, what it did and forever would do. The population of the planet earth since its creation, living and dead was innumerable, and as each living being died it passed through the Gateway, embodying it with power that encompassed the entire world, completely harmless in and of itself.

As the species Homo sapien Sapian evolved, a sect of the species adapted to the field of energy, learned to control it to do their bidding, and the well of power was tapped.

Soon others outside the sect, and decrying it an act of the Devil, turned on the sect, starting the Dark Ages of the Witch Burnings and the creation of the Seperation on planet and the establishment of the International Statute of Secrecy in 1689, the numbers of the Sect began to steadily fall.

The Veil was discovered and quickly hidden, an entire city constructed over it to conceal it from the world, for hundreds of years people of the Sect watched the world turn, oblivious to what they had locked away in the basement of what later became the British Ministry of Magic, its purpose as the Source of All went undisturbed.

Before the documentation of it began the Archway of Death had acted only once, when a being of the Sect intentionally split his soul in half, and something came out from behind the curtain, to restore balance, no soul, as a divine, sacred rule, was to be split wholly from its physical container.

And so Herpo the Foul met the face of Death and was erased, never to go beyond the Veil like everyone else on the planet had before him, the Ancient Greek's last thought, never to be heard by anyone.

"To create a horcrux is to earn the ire of Death, and Death always gets its mark in the end."

After the task done, Death retreated back behind the Veil, the cycle continuing on as if never disturbed, until the 19th century Thomas Marvolo Riddle, in his 7th Year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry killed a student, and severed his soul, ripping half of his soul in his haste to complete his goal and stuffing it into an embroiled leather book.

As before Death reacted, leaving the Gateway of Death to deal with the transgression, but was halted, something, someone was telling it to stop.

So stunned from this command, Death paused, and in that instant, 5 decades passed, which when Death realized what had happened was infuriated. Something had DARED slap the rule of Soul in the face.

Then it happened.

Death had instantly located the defiler as the green spell reeking of Death itself fired from the Defilers wand and struck a Sect baby. The Defiler grinned in triumph for all but a moment before his soul ruptured and imploded, vaporising its material shell, a shrivelled piece hitting the toddler in the head.

Death saw its chance, it took action.

"A piece of Soul for a Piece of Soul, you sacrificed your own for your son's, now shall he safeguard that which is most precious." Death said, a light floating up and out of its mouth and back into the body of one Lily Potter.

"Now to complete the process…" with careful precision Death stretched the soul of the Lady Potter and wound it around that of her sons, then electrocuted the body, restarting the bodies biological systems, like jumpstarting a car.

Lily Potter gasped an urgent breath as she sat up, her eyes searching wildly for something, till she caught sight of her baby boy, who was just staring at her with keen interest. Then she saw Death.

And blinked.

"You didn't scream, that's a nice touch, usually people that see me/us scream, but I suppose that having pulled you out from me/us, you know not to fear what is inevitable." Death commented airily.

"Why? Why did you do this? Why restore me?" Lily asked bewildered.

"The one that killed you, his soul imploded, destroying himself, however there are still pieces of him scattered on this plane and they will seek to take form. One of these shards is inside your son, and using that piece he will find the one that was supposed to die tonight and bring him to me, as the Hand of Death. I restored you, so that you would raise him to accomplish this, as a Returned Sect, your magic is strong, it is that which will ultimately lead the success of your sons goal. To aid in this, the Hallows bestowed thereupon your husbands ancestors will seek him out, after which I/we will take possession of them again as was always intended."

"Hallows? But that's just a bedtime story." Lily cried.

"Death tells no lies, so to, your son cannot tell lies as he is Death's Hand, as a part of Death."

"How?"

"We/I will teach you."

AN: i have a big weakness for OP character stories, so sue me


End file.
